Delphi Complete Works of Quintus Smyrnaeus

by Quintus Smyrnaeus

  Steamed on all sides: in cups of silver and gold

  They drank sweet wine: their hearts leaped up with hope

  Of winning to their fatherland again.

  But when with meats and wine all these were filled,

  Then in their eager ears spake Neleus’ son: 360

  “Hear, friends, who have ‘scaped the long turmoil of war,

  That I may say to you one welcome word:

  Now is the hour of heart’s delight, the hour

  Of home-return. Away! Achilles soul

  Hath ceased from ruinous wrath; Earth-shaker stills

  The stormy wave, and gentle breezes blow;

  No more the waves toss high. Haste, hale the ships

  Down to the sea. Now, ho for home-return!”

  Eager they heard, and ready made the ships.

  Then was a marvellous portent seen of men; 370

  For all-unhappy Priam’s queen was changed

  From woman’s form into a pitiful hound;

  And all men gathered round in wondering awe.

  Then all her body a God transformed to stone —

  A mighty marvel for men yet unborn!

  At Calchas’ bidding this the Achaeans bore

  In a swift ship to Hellespont’s far side.

  Then down to the sea in haste they ran the keels:

  Their wealth they laid aboard, even all the spoil

  Taken, or ever unto Troy they came, 380

  From conquered neighbour peoples; therewithal

  Whatso they took from Ilium, wherein most

  They joyed, for untold was the sum thereof.

  And followed with them many a captive maid

  With anguished heart: so went they aboard the ships.

  But Calchas would not with that eager host

  Launch forth; yea, he had fain withheld therefrom

  All the Achaeans, for his prophet-soul

  Foreboded dread destruction looming o’er

  The Argives by the Rocks Capherean. 390

  But naught they heeded him; malignant

  Fate Deluded men’s souls: only Amphilochus

  The wise in prophet-lore, the gallant son

  Of princely Amphiaraus, stayed with him.

  Fated were these twain, far from their own land,

  To reach Pamphylian and Cilician burgs;

  And this the Gods thereafter brought to pass.

  But now the Achaeans cast the hawsers loose

  From shore: in haste they heaved the anchor-stones.

  Roared Hellespont beneath swift-flashing oars; 400

  Crashed the prows through the sea. About the bows

  Much armour of slain foes was lying heaped:

  Along the bulwarks victory-trophies hung

  Countless. With garlands wreathed they all the ships,

  Their heads, the spears, the shields wherewith they had

  fought

  Against their foes. The chiefs stood on the prows,

  And poured into the dark sea once and again

  Wine to the Gods, to grant them safe return.

  But with the winds their prayers mixed; far away

  Vainly they floated blent with cloud and air. 410

  With anguished hearts the captive maids looked back

  On Ilium, and with sobs and moans they wailed,

  Striving to hide their grief from Argive eyes.

  Clasping their knees some sat; in misery some

  Veiled with their hands their faces; others nursed

  Young children in their arms: those innocents

  Not yet bewailed their day of bondage, nor

  Their country’s ruin; all their thoughts were set

  On comfort of the breast, for the babe’s heart

  Hath none affinity with sorrow. All 420

  Sat with unbraided hair and pitiful breasts

  Scored with their fingers. On their cheeks there lay

  Stains of dried tears, and streamed thereover now

  Fresh tears full fast, as still they gazed aback

  On the lost hapless home, wherefrom yet rose

  The flames, and o’er it writhed the rolling smoke.

  Now on Cassandra marvelling they gazed,

  Calling to mind her prophecy of doom;

  But at their tears she laughed in bitter scorn,

  In anguish for the ruin of her land. 430

  Such Trojans as had scaped from pitiless war

  Gathered to render now the burial-dues

  Unto their city’s slain. Antenor led

  To that sad work: one pyre for all they raised.

  But laughed with triumphing hearts the Argive men,

  As now with oars they swept o’er dark sea-ways,

  Now hastily hoised the sails high o’er the ships,

  And fleeted fast astern Dardania-land,

  And Hero Achilles’ tomb. But now their hearts,

  How blithe soe’er, remembered comrades slain, 440

  And sorely grieved, and wistfully they looked

  Back to the alien’s land; it seemed to them

  Aye sliding farther from their ships. Full soon

  By Tenedos’ beaches slipt they: now they ran

  By Chrysa, Sminthian Phoebus’ holy place,

  And hallowed Cilla. Far away were glimpsed

  The windy heights of Lesbos. Rounded now

  Was Lecton’s foreland, where is the last peak

  Of Ida. In the sails loud hummed the wind,

  Crashed round the prows the dark surge: the long waves 450

  Showed shadowy hollows, far the white wake gleamed.

  Now had the Argives all to the hallowed soil

  Of Hellas won, by perils of the deep

  Unscathed, but for Athena Daughter of Zeus

  The Thunderer, and her indignation’s wrath.

  When nigh Euboea’s windy heights they drew,

  She rose, in anger unappeasable

  Against the Locrian king, devising doom

  Crushing and pitiless, and drew nigh to Zeus

  Lord of the Gods, and spake to him apart 460

  In wrath that in her breast would not be pent:

  “Zeus, Father, unendurable of Gods

  Is men’s presumption! They reck not of thee,

  Of none of the Blessed reck they, forasmuch

  As vengeance followeth after sin no more;

  And ofttimes more afflicted are good men

  Than evil, and their misery hath no end.

  Therefore no man regardeth justice: shame

  Lives not with men! And I, I will not dwell

  Hereafter in Olympus, not be named 470

  Thy daughter, if I may not be avenged

  On the Achaeans’ reckless sin! Behold,

  Within my very temple Oileus’ son

  Hath wrought iniquity, hath pitied not

  Cassandra stretching unregarded hands

  Once and again to me; nor did he dread

  My might, nor reverenced in his wicked heart

  The Immortal, but a deed intolerable

  He did. Therefore let not thy spirit divine

  Begrudge mine heart’s desire, that so all men 480

  May quake before the manifest wrath of Gods.”

  Answered the Sire with heart-assuaging words:

  “Child, not for the Argives’ sake withstand I thee;

  But all mine armoury which the Cyclops’ might

  To win my favour wrought with tireless hands,

  To thy desire I give. O strong heart, hurl

  A ruining storm thyself on the Argive fleet.”

  Then down before the aweless Maid he cast

  Swift lightning, thunder, and deadly thunderbolt;

  And her heart leapt, and gladdened was her soul. 490

  She donned the stormy Aegis flashing far,

  Adamantine, massy, a marvel to the Gods,

  Whereon was wrought Medusa’s ghastly head,

  Fearful: strong serpents breathing forth the blast

&nb
sp; Of ravening fire were on the face thereof.

  Crashed on the Queen’s breast all the Aegis-links,

  As after lightning crashes the firmament.

  Then grasped she her father’s weapons, which no God

  Save Zeus can lift, and wide Olympus shook.

  Then swept she clouds and mist together on high; 500

  Night over earth was poured, haze o’er the sea.

  Zeus watched, and was right glad as broad heaven’s floor

  Rocked ‘neath the Goddess’s feet, and crashed the sky,

  As though invincible Zeus rushed forth to war.

  Then sped she Iris unto Acolus,

  From heaven far-flying over misty seas,

  To bid him send forth all his buffering winds

  O’er iron-bound Caphereus’ cliffs to sweep

  Ceaselessly, and with ruin of madding blasts

  To upheave the sea. And Iris heard, and swift 510

  She darted, through cloud-billows plunging down —

  Thou hadst said: “Lo, in the sky dark water and fire!”

  And to Aeolia came she, isle of caves,

  Of echoing dungeons of mad-raging winds

  With rugged ribs of mountain overarched,

  Whereby the mansion stands of Aeolus

  Hippotas’ son. Him found she therewithin

  With wife and twelve sons; and she told to him

  Athena’s purpose toward the homeward-bound

  Achaeans. He denied her not, but passed 520

  Forth of his halls, and in resistless hands

  Upswung his trident, smiting the mountain-side

  Within whose chasm-cell the wild winds dwelt

  Tempestuously shrieking. Ever pealed

  Weird roarings of their voices round its vaults.

  Cleft by his might was the hill-side; forth they poured.

  He bade them on their wings bear blackest storm

  To upheave the sea, and shroud Caphereus’ heights.

  Swiftly upsprang they, ere their king’s command

  Was fully spoken. Mightily moaned the sea 530

  As they rushed o’er it; waves like mountain-cliffs

  From all sides were uprolled. The Achaeans’ hearts

  Were terror-palsied, as the uptowering surge

  Now swung the ships up high through palling mist,

  Now hurled them rolled as down a precipice

  To dark abysses. Up through yawning deeps

  Some power resistless belched the boiling sand

  From the sea’s floor. Tossed in despair, fear-dazed,

  Men could not grasp the oar, nor reef the sail

  About the yard-arm, howsoever fain, 540

  Ere the winds rent it, could not with the sheets

  Trim the torn canvas, buffeted so were they

  By ruining blasts. The helmsman had no power

  To guide the rudder with his practised hands,

  For those ill winds hurled all confusedly.

  No hope of life was left them: blackest night,

  Fury of tempest, wrath of deathless Gods,

  Raged round them. Still Poseidon heaved and swung

  The merciless sea, to work the heart’s desire

  Of his brother’s glorious child; and she on high 550

  Stormed with her lightnings, ruthless in her rage.

  Thundered from heaven Zeus, in purpose fixed

  To glorify his daughter. All the isles

  And mainlands round were lashed by leaping seas

  Nigh to Euboea, where the Power divine

  Scourged most with unrelenting stroke on stroke

  The Argives. Groan and shriek of perishing men

  Rang through the ships; started great beams and snapped

  With ominous sound, for ever ship on ship

  With shivering timbers crashed. With hopeless toil 560

  Men strained with oars to thrust back hulls that reeled

  Down on their own, but with the shattered planks

  Were hurled into the abyss, to perish there

  By pitiless doom; for beams of foundering ships

  From this, from that side battered out their lives,

  And crushed were all their bodies wretchedly.

  Some in the ships fell down, and like dead men

  Lay there; some, in the grip of destiny,

  Clinging to oars smooth-shaven, tried to swim;

  Some upon planks were tossing. Roared the surge 570

  From fathomless depths: it seemed as though sea, sky,

  And land were blended all confusedly.

  Still from Olympus thundering Atrytone

  Wielded her Father’s power unshamed, and still

  The welkin shrieked around. Her ruin of wrath

  Now upon Aias hurled she: on his ship

  Dashed she a thunderbolt, and shivered it

  Wide in a moment into fragments small,

  While earth and air yelled o’er the wreck, and whirled

  And plunged and fell the whole sea down thereon. 580

  They in the ship were all together flung

  Forth: all about them swept the giant waves,

  Round them leapt lightnings flaming through the dark.

  Choked with the strangling surf of hissing brine,

  Gasping out life, they drifted o’er the sea.

  But even in death those captive maids rejoiced,

  As some ill-starred ones, clasping to their breasts

  Their babes, sank in the sea; some flung their arms

  Round Danaans’ horror-stricken heads, and dragged

  These down with them, so rendering to their foes 590

  Requital for foul outrage down to them.

  And from on high the haughty Trito-born

  Looked down on all this, and her heart was glad.

  But Aias floated now on a galley’s plank,

  Now through the brine with strong hands oared his path,

  Like some old Titan in his tireless might.

  Cleft was the salt sea-surge by the sinewy hands

  Of that undaunted man: the Gods beheld

  And marvelled at his courage and his strength.

  But now the billows swung him up on high 600

  Through misty air, as though to a mountain’s peak,

  Now whelmed him down, as they would bury him

  In ravening whirlpits: yet his stubborn hands

  Toiled on unwearied. Aye to right and left

  Flashed lightnings down, and quenched them in the sea;

  For not yet was the Child of Thunderer Zeus

  Purposed to smite him dead, despite her wrath,

  Ere he had drained the cup of travail and pain

  Down to the dregs; so in the deep long time

  Affliction wore him down, tormented sore 610

  On every side. Grim Fates stood round the man

  Unnumbered; yet despair still kindled strength.

  He cried: “Though all the Olympians banded come

  In wrath, and rouse against me all the sea,

  I will escape them!” But no whit did he

  Elude the Gods’ wrath; for the Shaker of Earth

  In fierceness of his indignation marked

  Where his hands clung to the Gyraean Rock,

  And in stern anger with an earthquake shook

  Both sea and land. Around on all sides crashed 620

  Caphereus’ cliffs: beneath the Sea-king’s wrath

  The surf-tormented beaches shrieked and roared.

  The broad crag rifted reeled into the sea,

  The rock whereto his desperate hands had clung;

  Yet did he writhe up round its jutting spurs,

  While flayed his hands were, and from ‘neath his nails

  The blood ran. Wrestling with him roared the waves,

  And the foam whitened all his hair and beard.

  Yet had he ‘scaped perchance his evil doom,

  Had not Poseidon, wroth with his hardihood, 630

  Cleaving the ear
th, hurled down the chasm the rock,

  As in the old time Pallas heaved on high

  Sicily, and on huge Enceladus

  Dashed down the isle, which burns with the burning yet

  Of that immortal giant, as he breathes

  Fire underground; so did the mountain-crag,

  Hurled from on high, bury the Locrian king,

  Pinning the strong man down, a wretch crushed flat.

  And so on him death’s black destruction came

  Whom land and sea alike were leagued to slay. 640

  Still over the great deep were swept the rest

  Of those Achaeans, crouching terror-dazed

  Down in the ships, save those that mid the waves

  Had fallen. Misery encompassed all;

  For some with heavily-plunging prows drave on,

  With keels upturned some drifted. Here were masts

  Snapped from the hull by rushing gusts, and there

  Were tempest-rifted wrecks of scattered beams;

  And some had sunk, whelmed in the mighty deep,

  Swamped by the torrent downpour from the clouds: 650

  For these endured not madness of wind-tossed sea

  Leagued with heaven’s waterspout; for streamed the sky

  Ceaselessly like a river, while the deep

  Raved round them. And one cried: “Such floods on men

  Fell only when Deucalion’s deluge came,

  When earth was drowned, and all was fathomless sea!”

  So cried a Danaan, seeing soul-appalled

  That wild storm. Thousands perished; corpses thronged

  The great sea-highways: all the beaches were

  Too strait for them: the surf belched multitudes 660

  Forth on the land. The heavy-booming sea

  With weltering beams of ships was wholly paved,

  And here and there the grey waves gleamed between.

  So found they each his several evil fate,

  Some whelmed beneath broad-rushing billows, some

  Wretchedly perishing with their shattered ships

  By Nauplius’ devising on the rocks.

  Wroth for that son whom they had done to death,

  He; when the storm rose and the Argives died,

  Rejoiced amid his sorrow, seeing a God 670

  Gave to his hands revenge, which now he wreaked

  Upon the host he hated, as o’er the deep

  They tossed sore-harassed. To his sea-god sire

  He prayed that all might perish, ships and men

  Whelmed in the deep. Poseidon heard his prayer,

  And on the dark surge swept them nigh his land.

  He, like a harbour-warder, lifted high